Nope, I haven't.

I haven't told you much lately.

I've been out of touch, off the "grid", lazy and mute.

My last post was August 2012.  What's happened since then?

I crashed and burned; that's what.

Crashed. Burned. Gained 20+ lbs above the already 40+ I was over "normal" weight.

So ... this is a purging.  A purging of my failure.  What can I say?  I'm tired of being silent about a slow increase, slow failure, slow delusion I used to cover the up 5 lbs but no one will notice.  Up 10 lbs but I love to eat.  Up 20 lbs but I love to drink.  Up and up and up ... I always had an excuse.  A rationalization.  A reason why it wasn't time yet.

Time for what?

Time for me to get my act the hell together.  Time to stop procrastinating.

I worked out harder than ever before last summer.  Boot camp, city classes, climbs up the 140+ stairs on Division.  I worked out ... and expanded.  I worked out ... and gained. 

And I broke.  That's the only way I can really describe it.  I broke.  I went off the deep end of dieting/eating/trying to be healthy.  Or, perhaps more correctly, I fell off the wagon.  'Cause let's not kid ourselves friends and stalkers ... I'm addicted to food.  I'm a foodaholic.  Sugaraholic.  Carbaholic.  What-the-hell-ever-aholic covers the 'holic I am.

When I continued to expand despite my 5:30 a.m. boot camp ... I broke.

I stopped exercising ... completely.

I stopped curbing what I ate ... completely.

Papa John's and I entered into an intimate relationship.  Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory became my friend.  I. Didn't. Care. Anymore.

And I packed on another 20 lbs by Christmas. 

I felt miserable.  Ashamed.  Hopeless even.

See ... I did this already.  I lost the weight already.  I got in shape already.  DAMMIT.  What the HELL am I doing back "here" again?  Buying bigger and bigger sizes.  Turning away from pictures.  Putting non-me pictures as my profile on Facebook (you know ... the important things).

I broke.

And, I'm ashamed to say, I waited until I am well on my way to "fixed" before I admitted it.

I went back to the program that helped me before (in 2006); I went back to Spectrum Health and opted for the strict 12 week to 18 week program.  From January 3rd for 12 weeks, I consumed 800-900 calories a day of mostly protein.  [Oh, yes, you "read" me correctly - 800-900 calories.]  Then I added in regular food again and am back to about 1200 calories day.

From January 3rd to now, I've lost 51 lbs.  About five months.

I've gone from a size of (one pair of dress pants) 18 to size 8-10.  A reset, if you will.

And now the real work begins.  What's that?  Haven't I already done the "real work"? 

Oh, hell no.

The REAL work is maintaining once I reach my goal weight.  The real work is finding the healthy balance of eating healthy and living well. 

After all ... I'm not getting any younger. 

[I had to stop and laugh a few minutes at that.]

So ... what did I do wrong the first time?  Am I destined to revisit this hell every 5-7 years?  That's both difficult and easy to answer at the same time. 

I stopped going.

I stopped going to group.

Does that sound like an addict's statement?  'Cause it should.

 I'm addicted.

I stopped going to my group meetings - Wednesday nights. 

Group meetings for fatties?  Whaaaat? 

Absolutely.  Group meetings in which we keep accountability.  We revisit information on nutrition, on exercise, on behavior modification.  Most importantly for me ... accountability.  I thought I had this covered.  I thought ... no problem, I know what I need to do.  Well ... that's true.  I know what I need to do BUT that doesn't mean I'll do it. 

So where am I now?  I'm down 51 lbs and am not yet where I want to be.  Where I KNOW I can be because I've been there before.  I'm still going to group even though I'm done with the main program.  I'm still journaling the calories I consume (alcohol is a bitch BTW). 

And I just signed up for boot camp again.

I have to face my fear that hard exercise will equal weight GAIN and inch EXPANSION.  I know now that I let myself eat way more than I should last summer because I was working out so hard.  My hormones were crazy (over 40 is a BIIIIITCH).  I didn't account for water retention and inflammation from sore muscles.  Oh, yeah ... I've thought A LOT about this.  And I know I need to face my fear. 

So, last night I started back with boot camp with the army assessment test.  [And I suck but it's okay 'cause I DID it.]

I'm back on track ... full steam ahead ... goal in mind.

Oh ... and another difference. 

I'm doing this for me.

I've no thought of getting in shape for a guy.  Even a fictional maybe guy.  Guys were SOOOOO pre-40.  I'm done with that.  Seriously.  Mr. Right would now have to be Mr. Incredibly-No-Fucking-Way-Right for it to 'cause me any pause.  No offense guys.

I'm just finally at that space in life where I have my home the way I like it.  My activities the way I like them.  My life the way I like it.  There's just no room for you.  [Evil laugh.]

This is ALL for me.

And that's perfect.


------

There it is - hello after 10 months.  I totally swear I didn't have a baby (although I've lost the equivalent of a 6 year old in weight).

*purged*

From Beautiful to Bitter and Alone in Three (Yes, THREE) Emails

I know, I know ... Where the Hell have I been?!  I've been sucked into a pre-holiday work deadline, then sucked happily into a holiday vacation, and sucked backed into a new year - the LAST, yo, 2012 ... before 2013 - and then, well, just really, really, Olympic medal level lazy.  Lots of sucking going on.

Seriously, if only there were a sport that emphasized my strengths of laziness and procrastination OTHER than golf.  Not that I don't appreciate smacking balls around with a big stick but I think my version would tend to both remove some of the possible gene pool from the world (not necessarily a bad thing) and land me in prison (not ready to be Bertha's bitch).

Anyhoo ... on to today's highly entertaining and equally embarrassing/pathetic topic.  [I know, I've totally sucked you in with that description AND managed to add more sucking to this post at the same time.]  As you recall, I fell backasswards into Match.com once again back in October.  And, as you recall, I lamented about the many men who were only seeking women younger than themselves.  My curiosity coupled with my, um, charm led me to the following encounter/smack down:

------ Sometime several weeks into my Match.com adventure 2011 ------

------ Cue misty fadeback music ------

In early November, I was stunned to get an email from a good-looking and seemingly normal guy.  He said that he liked what I had to say and called me "quite beautiful" before asking me where I've been hiding.  I know, right!? I responded back with what I thought was wit, talking about how I do tend to hide while riding around in my elusive vehicle (the highly visible Wonka Tonka) and frequenting the same unknown coffee place (a local, busy Biggby - it is my happy place) each day.  Yes, yes, I was being a smart-ass, which IS WHAT I AM, PEOPLE, and ended the email by thanking him - yes, THANKING him - for the compliment.

Now, my profile talks of my sarcasm and cynicism - I'm not into acting like someone I'm not just to meet someone who will be likely disappointed once my "forked tongue" (infra) comes into view. 

Honesty; it's a necessary if not beautiful thing.

The guy responded in what I thought was a playful way - HIM:  "You scion coffee drinkers are all the same...hiding like hamsters all wired on skinny lattes...just waiting to spring out and make a normal guy like me, smitten by your match profile.  A conspiracy at work...(squeek squeek)."

Oooh ... someone who can joke with me, right?  But, whoa ... something about his profile was both familiar and curious.  He is 45 years old and seeking females ages 29-44.  Yep - won't even look up to his own age.  Hmm. 

I RESPOND: "Ah, normal remains to be seen.  I think WD40 might help with that squeak.  So what do your normal days look like [name removed]?  What do you do for fun?  And, I don't know if you saw one of my earlier versions of my profile [for the reader - my cougar version] but I have to ask ... why, if you're done with having kids, are you only looking at women younger than yourself?  Inquiring minds and all that :)  "  [Yes, I included the smiley in an attempt to show I meant no real harm with my question.]

So ... I honestly was not expecting this as HIS RESPONSE:

Normal?  Well, I am a man's man (not gay..although there isn't anything wrong with that).  I don't drive a Scion (or Kia), or drink lattes.  I drink coffee and drive an SUV (maybe I should have said boring?).  Anywho..for fun I spend every waking second winking at 28 year olds on dating sites..(it is an exercise I find both futile and frustrating).  I then spend my spare time deleting winks from 50 year olds that look like my grandma (ever notice how friggin' EVERY profile starts out with, "I am laid back")??  So besides hurling yourself from planes and carving up innocent people..(oops, I mean pumpkins..must have slipped because I remembered you're a lawyer) what do you do for fun?  Well back to the dating sites.  I've got laid back grandmas I need to put the "smack down" on.

Raise your hand if you think I MIGHT have struck a nerve.  I'll wait.

Apparently, some damage control is necessary here.  MY THIRD EMAIL:

Oh my. Ha! Okay, since we lose tone in email, I'm not quite sure if my question pissed you off or if you're just playing.  I, too, understand the woe of the older (much older) winks and emails.  For me, the older the person, the older I feel but too young is just ... yeah, not good either in a different way.  But you, sir, don't even go up to your own age; now, you're not alone - I've noticed many guys do that.  I'm just curious.

What do I do for fun? It's hard to think of things not already on my profile.  Movies are a big love.  I'm trying to decide if I'm going to see The Debt this weekend or perhaps 50/50 or Clue (which I'm not sure I've EVER seen all the way through - I know, outrage).  I'm close to [removed 'cause 'ya'll' don't need to know where I live and what theaters I frequent].  I love reading, although that occurs in spurts depending on work.  After reading transcripts all day long, I sometimes need a break.  I write sporadically [followed by other personal stuff.]  I enjoy my summer volunteer time [followed by more personal stuff].  I collect cookie jars and character glasses.

[I can almost see you backing away slowly from the computer.] [<--Yes, this part WAS in the email.]

"Carving up innocent people?"  No, no, [followed by an explanation about what I do.]

I've been divorced for about 7 years; [followed by even more personal stuff].  I've dated off and on during that time and have remained friends with several of those guys.  You?  How long have you been out in the land of singlehood again?

Now, having read that, am I wrong to think it was obvious that I was ready to continue the conversation? That I was curious about his life, answering his question about what I do for fun, ending with another question for him? Apparently, I was very VERY wrong. 

Witness, dear readers, my descent from "quite beautiful" to bitter bitch alone.  HIS FINAL EMAIL:

I must confess.  I looked at your pictures and was smitten.  The picture of you holding the baby was my favorite...you are quite beautiful.  Then I read your profile.  I figured that much of what you wrote was for show [Wait - you mean the part you said you really liked of what I had to say??  Sorry, folks, I doubt I can get through this without running commentary.]...so I sent a simple email.  You came back with a forked tongue [I'm sorry, you mean when I THANKED you for the compliment?], so I felt inclined to perry.  You see, I too write for my business and in fact have been published in several trade magazines [Hold on a second, my eyes just rolled under my desk].  Your next response was at best mean spirited.  [That would be the one in which I had the audacity to ask him about the age difference, folks.]  I then hurled my best "smart ass" back at you in an attempt to show you that not all of us here are a bunch of mindless jackasses.  I emailed you in earnest and pulled back a bloody stump.  [Oh, yes ... yes, he did.]  In my opinion, if you continue with your current path of courtship you will accomplish your goal of being single forever.  Next time a good guy (like me) [*coughsputterbullshitcough*] says hello?  Say hello back, and focus less on punctuation and more on getting to know him.  [You mean like ask him what he does for fun and how long he's been looking? THAT sort of thing? *face palm* I should have totally thought of .. OH WAIT ... I DID.]  He just might be who you are looking for.  Good luck to you.  Signed, Bitch slapped ["normal" guy's name].

Wow.  I just ... Wow. 

Really.  How do you respond to something like that? DO you respond? 

I did.

I've tried to be honest in my profile, [name], which is why there are several references to "sarcastic" and "smart ass."  My ribbing was in jest and I asked the age question because I was curious.

I'm sorry that you were offended; it was not my intention.

But, hey, kudos for smacking me down and foretelling of my bitter life alone, you are a true gentleman.

I was about to describe the above reply as "short and to the point," but to have been truly short and to the point, my response would have been:

Jackass.

And THAT is how I went from beautiful to bitter, lonely bitch in three emails.  Impressive, eh? 

Although, one friend commented that the Justacogitating he knew could have done it in two. 

Hmm.

I think I've just been challenged.

I'm Baaaaaaack!!

Admit it.  This is only slightly less terrifying than The Poltergeist moment. 

I know.  I've been gone a long time due to a 70 year old (aka 7 year old) Dell desktop whose screen had become bluer than my lovely eyes.  It sits here even now, over in the corner, mocking me with forgotten files of old resumes, old chats (oh yeah, I kept those), and old pictures (which are the only things keeping me from going all Office Space on its ass...embly).  But our time together is nearing an end.  YOU HEARD ME, YOU DECREPIT MACHINE. END!  I've got a flash drive and I'm not (too horribly) afraid to use it, and then, well, then ...

So, what DOES one do with the old unfaithful computer? I googled some information recommending some particularly brutal wiping programs but, honestly, consider me Josephine Schmo looking to simply rid herself of an eye-sore.  I want the minimum "not gonna open it but don't want my files eyed" solution.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Pay someone.  I likely will just because I don't want to deal with it. But this conflicts with my natural distrust of ... people.

I've been gone a long time ... almost a year.  When the hunka was driving me to tantrums, I finally pulled the plug on the Internet.  I wasn't using it anymore and thought, hey, I'll rid myself of a bill until I get my new laptop in a couple (three, NINE) months.  So I cancelled Comcast. Yes, people, I lived the dream and said "bah bye" to cable completely.  Now, of course, the dream part only lasts until you're off the phone.  The nightmare begins when you realize that your building has no outside antenna and that Best Buy piece of shit digital antenna brings you a grainy religious program in the living room OR a brilliant Fox 17 in your bedroom provided you don't move ... ever.  So, I've been becoming better acquainted with my DVD collection and, occasionally, the stop/go/freeze DVD collection at the local library (seriously ... it's called CLEANER people!). 

The highlight?  Discovering the Joss Whedon gem firefly.  HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS!!?? A Whedon series with one of my favorites - evil Caleb/Castle Nathan Fillian - set in space with cowboys, prostitutes, and, did I mention, NATHAN FILLIAN??  I have to assume that the network did a piss poor, nonexistent job of promoting this show because nothing else explains the 14 episode sole season.  It. Is. Brilliant.  And I missed it.  Of course, I was ending law school and my marriage but still.  MISSED IT.  Happily, due to my self-inflicted lack of ANY television, I now own it, watched it, rewatched it, re-rewatched it, and proudly display my firefly Shiny shirt whenever possible. --->

Go get it. Now. I'll wait here.

[More to follow on my return to the cyber world ... now don't hurt yourself clicking refresh every second.]

A Needed Visual Smack Upside The Head

Soooo much more depressing than my June birthday, this sight greeted me in my office this morning:

All my, "No, not THAT birthday!" woes are over, dated and literally deflated.  It's time to get back on the blogging horse and leave some road apples in my wake on the way to 2011.